


off balance

by princealliance (anaksemuabangsa)



Series: pretty words [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Getting Together, M/M, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25511839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anaksemuabangsa/pseuds/princealliance
Summary: Yukhei wakes up on a Saturday morning, and his world tips off balance.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: pretty words [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004352
Comments: 25
Kudos: 182





	off balance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LinhLinh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinhLinh/gifts).



> Written as a commission for [peapeadontcry](https://twitter.com/peapeadontcry) on twitter. Thank you so much for the commission! You are, literally, a cool bean.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

+++

Yukhei's world tips off balance on a Saturday.

In the grand scheme of things, Yukhei thinks he'd like to look back and laugh at this very moment. He'd more likely to not, more likely to curse himself. For being so oblivious when the signs are already there. For living unaware that he'd dug himself in a trench he doesn't know how to get out of. For willingly entering Daedalus's labyrinth without a string.

Yukhei wakes up on a Saturday morning and gazes across the bed and something like _love_ burns through his chest. Vivid shades of magenta on the periphery of his vision. Yellows haloing around it. Bright and bold and colorful. Like the drawings Ten has on his sketchbook. The ones he let Yukhei see last night, his shoulder brushing against Yukhei's when he leaned into Yukhei’s space to point out details Yukhei would have missed.

Yukhei gets out of bed silently, mindful not to jostle the other occupant sleeping on the other end. They don't get enough sleep as it is, the both of them.

There are clothes on the floor, both of theirs. Because they're both messy and without Kun's watchful gaze, Yukhei doesn't bother. Yukhei pads to the bathroom, shivers and rubs his arms. The room is too cold for Yukhei's liking. He always complains when they do this, because Yukhei likes warmth. Would rather sweat to death than be slightly cold. But Ten had smiled at Yukhei, all pouty lips and bright eyes. And Yukhei is the worst at saying no to his members.

Yukhei pauses in front of a discarded sweater, picks it up and stares at it. It's his. He'd bought it with Mark on their last shared holiday together, when he'd still been figuring out his style. It went missing the third week into their Take Off promos.

Yukhei never figured out where it went. Until now.

"Yukhei," a soft voice calls him. Thick with sleep, confused with it.

Yukhei turns his attention to the bed, where Ten is just waking up, arms stretched above his head, eyes squeezed shut against the pull. Ten does a full-body shudder. A sliver of his stomach shows under his shirt.

Yukhei swallows.

"What time is it?"

"I don't know," Yukhei answers. "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you up when we need to go."

Ten smiles a little, pulls up the blanket and burrows in it, closing his eyes again.

Yukhei takes a deep breath, and makes himself move.

Yukhei wakes up on a Saturday morning in LA realizing he's in love, and his world tilting off its axis.

-

“You’re quiet.”

Ten sags against him, restless eyes jumping over the bustle of people. He dislikes flying. Dislikes the long, still hours of doing nothing but sitting. Dislikes the uncertainty of airports.

It’s everything Yukhei likes, though. Yukhei likes the faux sense of freedom. The way time seems to stretch forever. Especially in the early hours of the morning, when the too bright light blurs out the signs and no one can tell one airport from the other.

Yukhei likes to imagine, sometimes, in those spaces where worlds collide. Of buying a ticket to Thailand, of hopping on a plane and taking Ten with him.

He could. He has the money now.

“I’m just tired.” Yukhei says instead, sliding down his seat to accommodate the man beside him. Ten readjusts so he could fit his head on the crook of Yukhei’s shoulder. He sighs contently, eyes closing.

Something sticks in Yukhei’s throat at the familiarity. The magnitude of his affection threatening to break through his walls. Yukhei takes Ten’s hand in his instead. It’s so cold. Yukhei reaches for both of his hands. 

“Thank you,” Ten murmurs. “Get some sleep with me, Yukhei. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

He’s not. Yukhei wants to say. He just woke up wrong yesterday. Woke up with his entire heart on his sleeve and all his love in his bed.

“I’ll try.”

Ten chuckles, nuzzles his cheek on Yukhei’s shoulder. “That’s all I ask for.”

-

"Yukhei," Ten knocks gently on his door. "I'm going to come in, okay?"

Yukhei doesn’t know why he bothers with knocking. He’s here every other night, under the blankets with Yukhei, draped all over him. Him and his cold feet.

Ten doesn’t even bother with formalities, takes one look at Yukhei under his comforter and starfishes on top of him. His weight pushes the breath out of Yukhei. He pulls the covers down from over Yukhei’s face.

Yukhei groans. “You’re heavy.”

Ten snorts, wiggles around until he can properly peek at Yukhei’s face. He’s too close. Yukhei can smell morning on him. Green tea and aloe vera and mint. Like his favorite aftershave and moisturizer.

Ten’s fingers dig somewhere on his ribs. Yukhei squirms.

"You feeling okay? Yangyang told me you were being grumpy."

"I'm not. I'm just—"

“Just?”

Yukhei’s can’t answer. Not when Ten is staring at him like that. His eyes soft, lips soft, and Yukhei likes softness. Likes the way Ten wears it. Yukhei wants to sit up and kiss him. Feel his softness against his fingertips. It's not fair, Yukhei thinks, that Ten is here trying to make Yukhei feel better, and Yukhei feels worse instead.

"You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right?"

Yukhei nods.

Ten raises an eyebrow expectantly. Yukhei looks at anywhere but his face.

"I'm not getting anything out of you, am I?"

"I'm sorry. I’m not ready to talk about it." Yukhei replies weakly.

Ten smiles at him, and it tugs at Yukhei's stomach.

"That’s alright,” he says, “come keep me company while I practice?"

Yukhei can’t do anything but say yes.

-

In a way, Yukhei doesn’t think they should belong together.

Yukhei is brash and bold. Loud noises meant to draw laughter from a crowd. Ten is his counterpoint. An enigma if he's ever seen one. Delicacy running through spiderwebs of carefully woven personality traits. Chosen words and controlled gestures. His smiles are appeasing. Meant to be a tool and not something he wears just because he can. Ten pulls strings because they're visible to him. Yukhei trips on them, gets up, and makes a joke about falling.

They shouldn’t belong together. But Yukhei can’t help thinking, wrapping his hand around Ten’s, each of his fingers enveloping Ten’s, that they fit together perfectly.

-

“Ten-ah, I love you.”

“I know, Yukhei.”

“No, I _love_ you.”

“I _know,_ Yukhei,” Ten says the words slowly, blinking at Yukhei. Ten’s knees are tucked under his chin, nestled across Yukhei on the couch. “I love you too.”

 _No_ , Yukhei wants to say, _not like that_.

Yukhei lets his heart drop to his stomach. Hides his trembling hands under his thighs. Yukhei curls in on himself, takes the uncertainty that he adores so much and cuts it up with a knife. To be discarded. 

Next time. He promises himself. Next time he’ll try again, tell Ten properly.

He doesn’t meet Ten’s eyes for a long time.

-

He gets drunk off of love and the expensive liquor Kunhang brought back to the dorms with him on a Sunday night. It’s the alcohol. Yukhei would say. It’s the alcohol that makes him barge into Ten’s room at ass AM in the morning. Not frustration and hopelessness burning under his skin.

Ten is awake, blanket pooled around his waist, sketchbook propped up on his knees. He looks up, and all of the warmth drains from his face.

Yukhei feels cold. Yukhei hates the cold.

“Yukhei?”

"You don't see me," Yukhei says, voice cracking. Takes a step towards the bed. He hates the way his words slur together. 

"What do you mean?" Ten frowns. He looks confused. Genuinely so. He's a good actor.

"You don't see me, ge." Yukhei pitches forward, stumbles over his own two feet. His hands land heavily on Ten's shoulders. "You don't _see_ me. Look at me."

"I am," Ten says, staring up at Yukhei. Something desperate in his voice. In his eyes. Why would he be desperate? Yukhei is the one bleeding his heart empty. "I _am_ looking at you, Yukhei."

Yukhei wants to scream. "You're not," he says, "you're _not._ "

Ten's face twists, he clamps a hand around Yukhei's wrist. "Yukhei.” He sounds so small. “You're hurting me.”

Yukhei snatches his hands back like they're burned. Bile rising at the back of his throat. "I'm sorry," he whispers, horrified. "I'm so sorry."

Yukhei bolts.

-

It’s a Tuesday when Yukhei finds Ten waiting for him when he gets back to his room. His hair hangs wet from the shower, drowning in one of Yukhei’s hoodie. He looks small, but when he stands up to greet Yukhei, shoulders set in a determined line, he is the biggest person Yukhei has ever seen.

“Yukhei,” he starts.

Yukhei closes the door gently, turns around to face him. “I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I know I hurt you and I—I’m really sorry.”

“Yukhei, let me talk.”

“I just—you don’t know how I _feel_ about you and I don’t know how to say it and God you’re probably disgusted by me—”

“Yukhei!” Ten snaps. "You're not listening."

"I am,” Yukhei replies weakly. “I always listen to you.”

“You’re not listening to me right now,” Ten pleads, his face pained, advancing until Yukhei has nowhere else to go. “Listen to me.”

Yukhei nods, stands still. Ten shifts from foot to foot in front of him. His doubt finally making itself known.

Yukhei doesn’t know what he has to doubt. Yukhei is the one walking the thin divide between heartbreak and love. Ten is there to decide where he lands.

“I like you,” Ten starts, voice wobbling, like he’s not sure. “I like you,” he repeats. Firmer this time. Sure. “Like _that._ ”

Yukhei inhales sharply, ears ringing. His heartbeat noisy and rapid in his chest. The air is heavy with the weight of his hope and Ten’s confession. 

“Oh,” he says, finally, breaking the silence. “ _Oh,_ ” he says. Lightheaded and dizzy. “I’m an idiot.”

Ten’s face breaks into a wide grin. Renders Yukhei breathless, speechless. They should’ve done this sooner.

“You are,” Ten huffs, chuckling, “but you’re _my_ idiot.”

“Yours,” Yukhei murmurs, steps closer and gathers Ten close by the waist. His palms cover the entire span of Ten’s waist, and Yukhei was right. He fits there. He laughs, lets the sunshine in his throat bubble over.

“Mine.”

Ten stands on his tip-toes. He’s so close Yukhei can count his eyelashes. Ten was always braver than he is, and it’s him who pulls Yukhei down by his neck, pressing their lips together.

He’s soft, like Yukhei had wondered. Smells like green tea and aloe vera, and a bit of Yukhei’s cologne. Yukhei sees yellow behind his eyelids, vivid shades of magenta. He grins into the kiss, knocking their teeth together clumsily.

When they pull away, Ten rests his cheek on Yukhei’s chest, sighing contently. Affection overwhelms Yukhei, so he cradles Ten’s jaw in his hand and kisses him again. Thoroughly.

-

Yukhei’s world tips off balance on a Saturday morning, and rights itself on a Tuesday afternoon.

+++

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did okay? 
> 
> find me!  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/carrotbakehyun) | [twt](https://twitter.com/diorboybaek)


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